


Unavoidable

by SaviorKratis



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Animal Death, Bad Ending, Comfort, Connor cries, No established relationship, TW for minor death, Tears, Use whichever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 04:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15162872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaviorKratis/pseuds/SaviorKratis
Summary: Connor finds a sick bird that can’t be savedMay not be medically accurate !





	Unavoidable

**Author's Note:**

> TW for minor death!!

Connor finds a sick bird that can’t be saved

May not be medically accurate !

The temperatures only just started to rise after a harsh winter and it already had effect on the local birds. The moment the sun came up their songs were already sung. Though this Sunday they sounded off. Connor and Sumo stood in front of the tall window, peering out in the small back garden. One bird sat sadly on the ground while more black birds gathered in the nearby tree.   
Even after Sumo lost interest, Connor remained and briefly considered his options.

He, slow and steadily, moved to the door that led into the garden. The soft creaking startled some of the birds, some remained and took a defensive pose as they weren’t willing to leave, cawing angrily. His led shortly turned to a yellow, flickering minimally as he identified the sound and behavior. Warning. ‘Many types of crows are solitary, but they will often forage in groups. When one crow dies, the murder will surround the deceased. This funeral isn’t just to mourn the dead, though. The crows gather together to find out what killed their member.‘ His gaze fell to the bird sitting on the ground, the only to remain silent.

A feeling of determination struck his core as he slowly inched closer, the small murder now flying off. Something in his system searched for purpose, and now this something was stronger. He carefully kneeled at the bird and tried to identify the issues.   
Corvus brachyrhynchos  
>Ocular discharge   
>Low core temperature  
>Swelling  
>Approximately 5 shallow puncture wounds   
>Extreme disorientation   
Probability of survival: 0%   
Probability of survival after care: 84%

He frowned and carefully brought it inside, making sure to keep Sumo at bay as he gently knocked down a pillow and placed it on top before putting it on the table. There had to be a way to keep the bird warm and safe. After a short scan he found himself taking Hank’s LP albums out of a sturdy box. It may not be the perfect fit but it should help. As he held the box, now filled with a pillow and a silent bird, Hank came outside and grumbled something along the lines of; “What the hell are you doing.”

Connor looked up and presented the bird. “It was in the garden, it appears to have minor injuries,” He was met with a sound of disapproval. “I am sure I could nurse it to health, but I could also transfer it to an animal clinic.The chance of survival may be a lot greater.” Hank looked up and sighed.   
“They’d just put it down, Connor.”  
The android’s led briefly went yellow as he held the box closer.  
“But it can be helped.”  
Now, the lieutenant moved past him, remaining silent for another moment.  
“Yes, but the faith of the bird may be better left in Mother Nature’s hands.”   
“I understand death is a part of living, but I do not want either human, android or animal to die if it is not necessary. “  
“Fucking fine, just don’t give it a name or you’ll get attached.”   
“I am calling them Gordon.”

Connor gave a gentle smile before moving around again. He made sure to clean any wounds as gentle as possible and to disinfect them. The eye was a bigger problem he wasn’t sure how to handle yet.  
To keep the bird warm he placed a sock with uncooked rice in the microwave and carefully placed it under the bird. Gordon seemed grateful for the heat.  
“Keep it in the garage.” He heard Hank call eventually. He placed a small tray of water and wet dog food on a tray and made sure the bird could reach it. 

Probability of survival: 63%

With regret, he couldn’t watch it all day. This progress would take long and currently there was nothing he could do. It would also stress the bird out. He made a mental note to check on it every two hours and left to help Hank make breakfast.

Connor remained on schedule with his check ups. The bird constantly seemed to improve until the percentage started to drop during the evening. He rushed to reheat the sock with rice, then moved it to the bathroom incase the garage was getting too moist. But it wasn’t helping.  
He searched around for clues on the internet, only to find one method. Putting it out of its misery.   
His new found emotions were in conflict with logic. 

He scooped Gordon up, held him close as if it somehow would help to hear his makeshift heart beat. 34%.  
Hank told his goodnights, trying to ease Connor a little. Although the words were hopeful, the undertone were sure of a bad outcome. 22%.

Around 3AM its breathing became shallow and difficult, the little beak wide open. Connor had thought it may have been his grip, but it appears to be something internal as it has a small, what seemed to be, seizure around 3:27, and a more severe one around 5:53. 5%.

Gordon deceased in his arms around 7:48AM. As much as he thought he wouldn’t be stricken by sadness, tears rolled over his face. He had sat in the same spot against the tub for the whole night. Even when the probability started dropping rapidly something inside if him told him to keep going. Instead he was left with an unknown feeling and a spinning red LED.   
Connor wasn’t sure what to do, simply keeping Gordon close before Hank came in and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey..” came softly as the mam sat down beside of him. “I am sure it appreciated your help, Warm and uh..comforted.” Hank tried, looking down at the bird that laid just as still as before. His only indication were the wet eyes from the android and the gentle red light of his LED. “We can...” he searched for the right words “...Give it a funeral.”  
“I don’t understand.”  
“We could dig a hole in the yard a-“  
“No...I don’t understand why they died.”

Hank sighed and put his arm around Connor’s shoulder.   
“I don’t think it could’ve been saved.”  
“But I knew the injuries and everything was going well. Something happened and I don’t know what..”   
Connor looked at him as new tears started to flow, resulting in Hank carefully going in for a hug.  
“I’m afraid I do not know how to explain it, Connor.”

They sat there for a bit before Sumo’s whine got louder, asking urgently for some breakfast.  
“Why don’t you choose a spot in the yard and we’ll give it a proper end.” Hank hummed, getting up.   
And so he did, at the same spot he found the bird. Connor stood for a while before carefully placing it down and walking to the small shed to grab a shovel. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t save you.”


End file.
